Chapter 113: Please Don’t Point Weapons at My Cub

Chapter 113: Please Don’t Point Weapons at Our Kid

Just as dazed, Finn hesitated in bewilderment—no wonder things had been going so well today.

So this was the catch?!

Finn glanced at the two disheveled young men beside him, especially his own grimy little charge.

Throwing a fit? Still the same as when he was a child.

Instinctively, Finn opened his mouth to say, "Sor—"

But halfway through the apology, his baby face froze abruptly, and he too slapped the ground.

"No, no, no, is this really my fault? I’m a victim here too! Where the hell are we? How should I know?"

Getting lost and winding up in messes—was that his fault?

What did it have to do with him personally?

As Finn tried to convince himself—and perhaps find some comfort in the thought—Amos would probably see it the same way…

Well, maybe Amos wouldn’t.

"No signal. This seems to be an uncharted zone," Chao Huangmu said as he got up, still a mess of dust. He first reached out to brush the dirt off Zao Zao before turning to inspect the battered starship and mecha that had endured the unexpected spatial jump. After a careful examination, he added, "But the pollution levels here don’t seem too high."

For those accustomed to life in Saint Cas’s star sector, the structure and environment here were entirely unfamiliar.

Scans showed they were no longer in the star sector they knew.

Finn was messing with the controls.

Meanwhile, the Little Crown Clan got to their feet and wandered around the area.

It was a vast, open space—no vegetation in sight, just bare and gray, totally unfamiliar.

Yet, the occasional familiar roars of beasts confirmed they hadn’t landed in a place like the Angelic Realm.

"The ship’s wrecked," Finn muttered after fiddling for a while, then kicked the ship’s hull twice in frustration, his baby face darkening. "Zao Zao, stow the crown and wings for now."

Better to stay cautious in unfamiliar territory. Finn was fed up with his cursed luck—he just hoped that before Amos arrived, he could keep their clan’s sole young one safe and sound, maybe even make up for it.

...Not that this was his fault, right? Right?!

"Got it, Sānshū."

Chu Zao came back over, tilting his dust-smudged little face up at Finn before calling Chao Huangmu over.

"Brother Mu, doesn’t that sound like those twig beasts over there? Hear that?"

"It really does."

Chao Huangmu tilted his head to listen, still covered in grime from head to toe. When Chu Zao looked at him, his grin flashed, his little canines peeking out. But with his teeth so white and his face so gray, the contrast was downright hilarious.

Zao Zao paused for two seconds, as if trying hard, but gave up. He suddenly burst into laughter.

"Your face is filthy."

"Is it?" Chao Huangmu wiped his cheek with his hand, his big, pleading eyes glancing at his equally grimy fingers. "Even when dirty, Zao Zao still looks so intimidating—"

So intimidating?

That Chu Zao, laughing so hard his shoulders shook, who had completely forgotten he was trying to appear reliable?

Finn: "..."

Once upon a time, Finn had totally bought the Saint Casians when they said his beard was incredibly handsome. But now, he genuinely began to question—what were Saint Casians even made of? What kind of sheer delusion allowed them to ignore reality and blindly spout nonsense compliments without hesitation?

"Alright."

Finn spoke up, watching the two crouched together, muttering as they dug through their space buttons—one pulling out a handkerchief, the other fetching water, preparing to clean their faces.

"We’ll need to explore properly later."

Chu Zao also looked over and nodded, standing up to walk to Finn’s side.

"Confirmed, those are the sounds of the twig monsters. We must be on the other side of the pollution. If we can locate the direction of the pollution, we might figure out how far the defensive barrier is from here."

As he spoke, Chu Zao looked up at his uncle.

"Uncle, you’re a reliable, full-fledged Crown Clan adult, right?"

Chu Zao thought about all the incidents Finn had been involved in over the years, as well as the training rooms he’d frequented, and even the Little Crown Clan was at a loss—why did we end up with all the loose cannons?

Wasn’t there at least one actually competent Crown Clan member who could’ve come along?

Finally, Chu Zao tried to convince himself—and Finn—as he looked up at his uncle, who was often unleashed by the Crown Clan as their secret weapon to roam the stars.

"We’re in an unfamiliar star system now. Since we have tracking, why don’t we just lay low and wait it out for Dad to arrive? What do you think, Uncle?"

The kid’s hint wasn’t subtle.

But Finn couldn’t help reading way too much into it—along with the countless times he’d been roped into their messes by this father-son duo.

Finn: "..."

Calling me a reliable Crown Clan member? This smells fishy!

"Zao Zao, are you suggesting that I—"

Finn looked up at the sky.

"—fly off to scout the barrier, then quickly return to pick you up?"

Xiao Chuzao: "...Huh?"

If Uncle insists on doing it that way—it could work.

Finn pondered—

"So I have to cut through the pollution, locate the barrier, wait for Amos to arrive, protect you both until he gets here, and scope out the area thoroughly before then—"

Is this a job for multiple Group Armies?

And you’re making him do it?

Finn let out a short laugh, looking at Chu Zao: "You noticed too, huh, Zao Zao? This is—" impossible.

Chu Zao: "Uncle, you’re basically a superhero."

The wide-eyed Little Crown Clan member praised, extending a hand to give Finn a thumbs-up.

Finn: ...

—And you just took that at face value?!

Finn couldn't help but raise his hand and give Chu Zao a light smack on the head.

Snap out of it, Zao Zao!

The teenaged Little Crown Clan member staggered from the smack, muttering, "Clearly, you’re the one who got it wrong, Uncle."

"Stick together—no splitting up in unknown territory."

Finn actually seemed dependable without other Crown Clan folks nearby.

He first scanned the surroundings. It wasn’t pitch black—light seeped in, but no stars were visible.

They’d need to use the starship as a landmark and explore outward from there.

Finn pondered this, then turned just as Chu Zao, rubbing his head, dug through his pockets.

Finally, he pulled out a small notebook.

Chao Huangmu and Finn craned their necks to see.

Finn: "Zao Zao, what are you doing?"

"Keeping a journal."

Chu Zao lowered his gaze, his long lashes fluttering slightly as he gripped the pen, quickly jotting things down.

"Writing it down to show Dad later."

Oh—so like a mission log?

Finn thought, glancing over again.

He saw Zao Zao writing: "Dragged to some weird planet by Uncle. Weird contamination levels. Heard Branch Monster sounds. Ended up lost. Figuring out where to go next. Praised Uncle as a superman. Uncle hit me."

Finn: ...

What is this, a diary?

This is a hit list, isn’t it?!

And you’re seriously showing this to Amos?

Finn was sure Amos was lying in wait to ambush him. Why’d he ever agree to swap shifts with Amos in the first place?

Finn winced, his face contorting in dread.

He reached out his hand. At this age, Zao Zao was no longer at the stage where he could be hauled off and scolded for causing trouble.

Finn slung an arm around Xiao Chuzao's neck. "Zao Zao!"

"Third Uncle, Zao Zao is here."

The grubby Zao Zao, his curly hair mussed up by Finn, peered up at him.

Finn pinched the Little Crown kid’s cheek.

"That's enough. We don't need this kind of report."

Over there, Chao Huangmu, who had been watching the scene, let out a snicker.

Finn and Chu Zao both turned to look.

Finn paused for a moment before pointing at Chao Huangmu.

"Zao Zao, he's laughing at you."

Chao Huangmu: ...???

No, that's not it, Your Highness Finn, don’t make things up!!!

*

Meanwhile, in another region of this planet, before the loud noise erupted—

Several mechas were gathered together.

Their pilots stood in the center, their faces tight.

"How's the situation?"

"This isn't even the real Survival Contest yet. Our territory's livestream has already been cut off. This is the second wave—looks like we’re screwed."

One of the young men drove his fist into the dirt.

"Damn it."

He clenched his jaw, his face lowered as dust swirled around him, followed by a silence heavier than the dust.

"The Gesen Empire has already formed alliances. They've built a strong team, deliberately targeting us every time. Our Sacred Territory has been doing its best. As the third batch of contestants about to be sent in, we still need to prepare."

The man spoke again in a low voice.

"They just pick on whoever they dislike, in cahoots with those beasts, treating us like livestock—they live in areas with less pollution and abundant resources, but do they really think they're so powerful? They're just fancier cuts of meat for those monsters!"

"Everyone knows this. Countless people have said these things are just the monsters' way of turning us against each other, but it's useless. As long as one side gets the benefits they want, they won't choose the harder path. And now, fewer and fewer nations and races are willing to ally with us. Much of the intel still comes secretly from the Eastern Alliance—"

"What's the use of smuggling us intel? By then, our families, my little brother, your sister, and even you—will all be targets for those monsters to devour. Then they'll leave behind a small fraction, claiming it's to let our race recover—a damn disgrace, absolutely humiliating."

"This Survival Contest warm-up is just a small skirmish, but we've already lost too many of our people. I think overthinking it now is pointless. We should focus on what's coming and plan ahead."

This star system is crawling with countless monsters. A thousand years ago, when the pollution struck, this place was divided and swallowed. Because no Longlived race dared to get too close to the contamination, the monsters nearly gnawed humanity to the bone.

It wasn't until the monsters evolved conscious Monster Commanders that they realized this wasn’t sustainable. They needed humanity to reproduce and recover their race so they could have an all-you-can-eat buffet of flesh to devour.

Thus, the Survival Contest began—one official competition and one warm-up match each year. Nations and races ranked lower or with higher casualties are herded further out, into areas more easily hunted by ordinary monsters. The worst are sent directly into the monsters' hunting grounds.

No one comes back whole.

And after that, humanity lost its past history. Struggling to survive, they gradually formed this precarious balance.

The remnants of humanity slowly stabilized into distinct races and nations. However, apart from the most powerful—the Gesen Empire, which from the very beginning unhesitatingly curried favor with the monsters—the territories of other nations and races constantly shifted, driven away by the monsters.

Like driving livestock.

Even though mecha technology was highly advanced, capable of dealing with some of the less troublesome monsters, this place swarmed with Monster Commanders. Against them, these mechas were as fragile as thin sheets of paper.

People's will to fight kept fading.

Eventually, the Survival Contest became an accepted fact of life, common knowledge for those living in this star system.

Whether it was the qualifiers or the official Survival Contest, they pulled in massive audiences in live broadcasts.

People watched as contestants were devoured by monsters, failed challenges and missions, or were killed by rival nations along the way. They discussed it fervently, the hype reaching fever pitch.

At this moment, the official Survival Contest had not yet begun. What was underway was the qualifiers, which determined the tasks and starting locations for the main event.

The Sacred Lands, once Saint Cas's remnants, had already gone through countless generations.

As a race with stronger mental powers than others, coupled with their stubborn and radical nature—unwilling to surrender or submit—they were naturally ostracized in this environment, forced further into the hinterlands. If they lost this Survival Contest, they would be directly driven into the monsters' hunting grounds.

And judging by the qualifiers—the outlook was bleak.

They were supposed to be the third and final batch of participants in the qualifiers.

They knew the first two batches well, which was why, when the live feed was cut off, even without official confirmation, it almost certainly meant something had happened to those broadcasted. The mood was thick with dread.

"Damn it, damn it—"

The young man clenched the dry earth in his fists, but the grains slipped through his fingers—the tighter he gripped, the less he could hold.

Dark spots bloomed across the dry ground—droplets of fallen tears.

"Yu Ye, calm down. How are you going to compete in the qualifiers like this?"

Someone beside him reached out, trying to soothe him.

"We can't lose this time. We have to protect our race. We have to get back to our homeland—"

"Homeland, homeland, homeland—always the homeland."

Yu Ye suddenly stood up, glaring at them.

"Where even is this homeland? What Saint Cas? What Sacred Crown? None of us has laid eyes on it, never heard a credible word about it. Maybe it's just a lie our desperate elders made up to keep us going."

As a child, hiding from the monsters, he had once gazed longingly in the direction his elders called "home."

But now? He had shouldered the burden passed down by his predecessors, yet the entire Sacred Lands was being pushed step by step toward despair and death. They stood at the very edge, one misstep from extinction.

"Don't say things like that."

"Why not? Can't we even speak now? That was *their* homeland, not—not mine—"

The young man in his twenties lowered his head, tears falling once more, drop by drop onto the ground. His breathing was slightly ragged as he took a deep breath, then turned to look at the mecha behind him.

"We could have survived before, but now they're openly teaming up to wipe out the Sacred Lands. What good is raw fighting skill? Are we really supposed to believe in some far-fetched old wives' tale passed down for generations—that some powerful race will come and save us? Impossible. It doesn't exist—I don't believe it—"

And just as these words left his mouth—an earth-shaking boom. The ground trembled violently, snapping the Sacred Lands squad, who had been training here, to immediate attention.

"What was that sound?"

"A xenobeast?"

"No, it shouldn't be. Xenobeasts don’t usually make such commotion, and this isn’t their hunting zone. There shouldn’t be any powerful ones here."

Yu Ye stood up.

He leaped into his mech.

"Why not go check it out?"

"Hey, wait! Don’t be reckless!!"

Even as they spoke, the others quickly boarded their own mechs, following closely behind Yu Ye, afraid the kid on the verge of losing it might do something irrational.

They piloted their mechs all the way to a highland. Looking down from there, the distant plain was just a wasteland of sand and debris.

They had just been here not long ago.

But strangely,

the place had changed. Near the center, there was a dark shadow—what looked like some kind of unknown ship.

"Zoom in—get a closer look—"

They fine-tuned their mechs’ visual systems and looked again—

"Is that... a person?"

They saw three figures standing in front of the starship.

"Seems like it. No distinguishing traits—definitely not a xenobeast commander."

"Probably not. If it were, they would’ve noticed us by now. They’re likely just civilians, not even looking our way. But why are they here? What are they doing here?"

Though they pegged Chu Zao and the others as human and not xenobeasts, since this place was close to their territory, the group remained instantly alert.

"Could they be scouts sent by the Gesen Empire?"

"Maybe saboteurs from some backwater planet barely hanging on in the Survival Contest—we’ve dealt with plenty like that before."

"I agree with the latter. Look at that weird-ass mech next to their aircraft."

"Oh, that’s a mech? It looks pathetically basic. Seems like one shot would scrap it. What kind of ancient relic is that?"

"True—what even *is* that thing? It’s bizarre. That junkheap shouldn’t even be in use by the podunk colonies—"

No kidding.

After all, everyone here was stuck under the thumb of the Survival Contest.

The stronger your tech edge, the lower your chances of getting hunted, ensuring survival.

Mechs were a lifeline for their survival.

Many small planets would starve before skimping on mech upgrades.

But that piece of junk next to the ship—

Too shoddy, as if they didn’t even try, with no improvements made to the obvious external flaws.

Meanwhile, below, as they arrived, the three of them casually glanced around without much concern. Their energy was too weak, and these three—each with overwhelming mental power—paid them no mind, deciding to investigate the situation later.

And now—

Chu Zao looked at Chao Huangmu, his neck still hooked by his uncle's arm. His beautiful honey-colored eyes sparkled with amusement as he jotted down notes in his notebook—then Chao Huangmu dared to laugh at him.

Chao Huangmu stared at the notes on the page, then lifted his gaze to Chu Zao, his eyes widening—like the world was ending.

(mock gasp) "I didn’t, I wouldn’t, how could I ever laugh at such a handsome, powerful, and reliable Little Highness!"

Chao Huangmu was practically raising his hand to swear an oath. Frantic, he crowded closer—his sunny puppy act crumbling into panic. Unfazed by Finn, he pressed close to Chu Zao, trying to make him see the sincerity in his eyes—

Dead serious!

Pfft—

"All talk, Zao Zao, don’t believe him."

Finn tried to shift the blame, even whipping out a bag of candy from his space button as a bribe.

Not to be outdone, Chao Huangmu did the same.

Chao Huangmu began rummaging through his own space button—dumping out fruits, snacks, candy, all sorts of delicious treats.

He extended his hand, offering the sweets: "My bad, here’s a peace offering."

Finn, who had only brought one bag of candy in his space button: "Oh, you—"

Mid-sentence, Finn suddenly turned his head, his baby-faced grin twisted into a scowl in an instant—

Tsk.

Meanwhile, at the high point above.

Yu Ye raised the arm of his mech, its cannon aimed at the three below.

"Let’s sneak closer and figure out what they’re up to."

"Take them out?"

"If necessary, we must. We need to ensure the safety of our territory. Keep quiet for now—let’s gather intel first—"

"Radio silence— Wait, hold on, wasn’t it three a second ago?"

Before the words could fully settle, someone suddenly gasped over the comms.

"Y-yeah, where’d the third guy go?"

Yu Ye, still holding his weapon, gaped blankly at the screen where the figure had vanished, frozen for a moment.

"And—did they just glance this way?"

"No freaking way. They’re just ordinary people. Even a Monster Commander could overlook us at this distance. How could anyone be that perceptive? Maybe he just moved out of sight—"

*Click—*

A soft, barely-there click.

The chilling part was—the sound was right beside them.

They froze mid-sentence.

What—just happened?

Yu Ye's mecha suddenly lit up with warning lights, systems screaming errors.

In the next moment, their mecha's screens flashed with electrical discharges and bursts of flame—then the mecha beside Yu Ye's jerked away in panic—

"Yu Ye, your mecha—"

Finn let the arm drop carelessly, and the dismantled mechanical arm, crackling with sparks, crashed to the ground, sending dust flying.

Finn's crimson eyes glowed faintly as he pushed off from the mecha. From their perspective, he stood with his head lowered, his face devoid of expression, entirely shrouded in shadow.

"Sorry to interrupt—you've been rather impolite from the start. But since we're newcomers here, we weren't looking for a fight. However—"

Finn spoke softly, enunciating each word: "Don't you dare aim weapons at our kid."

Put stressed-out parents in a new place—they'll snap.